Midnight and Grave
by meganann07
Summary: Elite Prescott University jr Bella never expected to be tapped into Midnight and Grave, the county’s most powerful and notorious secret society. She isn’t rich, connected, male.She is thrown into a strange world where she must learn to trust her"brothers"
1. Shock and Awe

Elite Prescott University junior Bella Swan never expected to be tapped into Midnight and Grave, the county's most powerful and notorious secret society

**I don't own anything.**

Full Summary

Elite Prescott University junior Bella Swan never expected to be tapped into Midnight and Grave, the county's most powerful and notorious secret society. She isn't rich, politically connected, or … well male.

Whisked off into an initiation rite that feels as if she has been thrown into an Alfred Hitchcock film, Bella is forced into a new reality with a new group of friends that are connected and powerful. And that's when Bella starts to discover the truth about getting what you wish as her life spins out of control. Bella is way over her head. Not only could Midnight and Grave ruin her life and everything she has worked for, but why can't she stop thinking about her society "brother," Edward that is so dark and brooding?

* * *

It all began on a day in late April of my junior year. I was in my dorm room, for once, trying to squeeze in a load of laundry between my chicken salad sandwich in the dining hall and my afternoon lecture on War and Peace, as I like to think of it, WAP. (That's because every time I begin to read it I want to hit something and I imagine "wap" is exactly how the damn book would sound being slammed into a wall.) I was titling toward a B in my literature ethics class, which was unacceptable if I wanted to graduate with honors in my majors of English and Professional Writing. However, it was either laundry or rushing out that night to buy a new package of underwear.

But neither Tide nor Tolstoy was in the cards for me that afternoon. I'd just finished my first load when my phone rang.

Crap. It was probably my mom, Renee. The woman seemed to have a godly sense of when I'd be in my room and tended to annoy me.

I tossed my laundry to the side and tripped over a pair of pumps on my way to the phone. "God I'm such a klutz and my roommate seriously needed to pick up her crap." I thought. "Hello."

"Bella Marie Swan?"

"Yes," I said, separating my darks from lights.

"Your presence is required at 750 College Street, room 400, at two o' clock this afternoon."

Two o'clock was in fifteen minutes. "Who is this?"

"750 College Street, room 400. Two p.m." And then the line went dead.

I plopped back onto my prim couch (Thanks to my roommate's interior design skills). Talk about rotten timing. There was no question in my mind who it was on the other end of the phone. Quill and Parchment was the "literary" senior society on campus, the usual position for scribblers just like me. It prided itself on having several alumni that had become well known writers. Since I was the current editor-in-chief of the campus literary magazine, I knew I was a shoo-in, just like my predecessor Angela Weber had been before me. That is, I would be if I made it to my impromptu interview. I was going t have a long talk with Angela. I mean seriously, she was in the English Ethics class I was in! She knew I was struggling and yet scheduled my interview during lecture time. Ugh.

Society interviews were always arranged on super-short notice. Part of the test is to see if you could get there. I don't know what the heck they would have done if the tap didn't answer the phone.

Laundry forgotten for now I stumbled into my room. Societies are all about a spectacle so I thought I would play along and look formal for the occasion. I pulled out my one and only suit shoved into the back of my closet. I hadn't worn a suit since my internship interviews, during which I landed a sweet job (sarcastic grunt) playing secretary to Barnwell Literary Agency this summer. I pulled out a blue shell to go with the suit and desperately wished my fashion frenzied roommate, Alice was here to help me. After forcing hose unto my unshaven legs, brushed out my long brown hair from its ever present ponytail, and grabbed Alice's pumps that I had tripped over earlier, I was ready to go.

I clopped my way through my suite's common room. Did I mention how sweet our setup was… two large rooms connected by a wood-lined common room? Only downside was the frightening hardwood floors that I always managed to slide or trip over holes. Have I mentioned I am total klutz who hates heels of any kind? The door to my suite opened before I could reach the knob, in dances my roommate and best friend, Alice Brandon carrying a stack of books that is taller that her petite frame and her dry cleaning. Ha! Alice is always more put together that I am. She has time for lunch, homework, and pleats. She is a business major with a minor in fashion merchandising.

She looked me up and down. "Change that god awful top. Quill I assume?"

I shrugged. "Who else?" Quill and Parchment wasn't a secret society in the traditional sense. I mean they didn't have one of those giant tombs that the larger societies had to hold meetings. They only met in a room above Starbucks. Alice nodded briskly and plopped onto the couch. "Good luck, not that you will need it. Hasn't every Lit Mag editor gotten into Quill since, like, the Stone Age?"

Pretty much. I was a little annoyed with Alice because she hadn't told me what society was courting her. It was silly, I knew that when Tap Night came around and she was picked by her society the secrecy routine would drop. "Well hurry up because you promised me a shopping trip!" says Alice. Ugh. I hated shopping with Alice. It felt like one of those shark feeding frenzy you saw on television. No mercy for the slow or wary because you will be shark meat before you left the first store with Alice.

"Gotta run." I waved good bye and practically fell out the door trying to get away, down the stairs into sunny April afternoon in Connecticut.

I just knew Alice would be tapped. She'd been fighting for a tap into one of the more prestigious societies since the moment she'd stepped on campus as a freshman. She honestly felt that it was the only way to get anywhere at Prescott. I thought the attitude was a bit out-of-date. This wasn't the twenties, when you were tapped into a society straight out of graduating from an elite prep school, and every student on campus was white, male, and rich.

In those days, failure to receive election into one of the big secret societies was equivalent to permanent social banishment.

But the world didn't work like that anymore. Now most of the societies had diverse membership rosters that reflected a modern student body composed of student from every walk of life. There was no doubt in my mind that come Tap Night, Alice (whose father was the governor of Pennsylvania and extremely wealthy) would be elected into one of the best societies on campus–Dragon's Head, perhaps, or Lock & Key. In fact, the only secret society I knew she would not get into was Midnight & Grave, the oldest and most notorious society in the country. But that was because all the members–known as "Diggers"–were men. Like I would want to be a member of one of their societies anyway, Quill would be just fine for me, thanks. The only reason I was joining Quill and Parchment in the first place was that it would look good on my resume. Networking was the key in my field and Quill and Parchment was a good outlet.

This was it, 750 College Street. And, I had a little over ninety seconds to make into the room. And yet, when I arrived, slightly puffing, at the darkened classroom, the first words out of the mouth of the person who laser-pointed me to my seat were: "You're late." The velvety voice I heard was so alluring, menacing, and dangerous.

I blushed like I always do when I am nervous, scared, or embarrassed and I felt all three at that moment. I looked at my watch again, "I-"

The Alluring Voice sitting at the nearest table pointed something at me that flashed 2:01.

The Alluring Voice says, "This is an atomic clock. You were forty-eight seconds late.". He sounds slightly frustrated.

"Are you joking?" I squinted, trying in vain to see his face through the gloom. I was surprised that they managed to pull this off. They'd draped the windows with black hangings, and though each of the dozen people seated about the room appeared to have a book light in front of their place, the most I could make out was a jaw here, the curve of a nose there. Wow, they'd gone all out. These writers' creative juices were flowing.

"Are we joking, Ms. Swan?" Alluring Voice said with what I swear was a sneer. I didn't even need to see it. "Do you believe there is anything about this process that is a joke?"

Not until now. But come on, what was this, The Da Vinci Code? "No, sir."

I strained my neck to see if I could recognize Angela's features amongst the group, but I couldn't make her out. Where was she?

"Let me assure you, Ms. Swan," Alluring Voice went on, "that we take our election procedure very seriously. Punctuality is of utmost importance to us. So is electing a person who can be trusted to obey the rules of the society, no matter how minor they might seem."

Whoa. So forty-eight seconds and I'd screwed up? I sat up in my seat. "I understand that, sir, and can assure you that I will take my position in the society very seriously." I paused, weighing the advisability of my next words. "I didn't know I was supposed to invest in an atomic watch. Do I get one of those when I join?"

No answer.

I giggled nervously. "What about a grandfather clock? I heard every member of Midnight & Grave gets one at graduation." Quill, however, didn't quite have the endowment for such bountiful presents. Maybe they could swing a Timex.

Still nothing. Um, was this thing on? "Though I suppose that a grandfather clock would be hard to lug around." Lame, lame, lame. "And probably not atomic." Shut up, Bella I was totally crashing and burning. Crap, her comes my infamous blush again.

We sat in silence for a full ten seconds. And then someone three rows back spoke up. "Ms. Swan, if you could answer a few questions for us." I saw a shuffling of papers. "I have here your transcript. It states that sophomore year you received a B— in Dust Pages: Ethiopian Immigrant Narrative of the Mid-20th Century West."

"Yes."

"Do you have an explanation for that performance?"

Yeah, beware of classes bearing colons. That class was viciously hard and I was thrilled with that B-.

The B— was my single black mark in my English major, or would be as long as I kicked all 1,472 pages of WAP ass!

"I'm more of a New Critic than a Freudian analyst," I, choosing the time-honored liberal arts tradition of if you can't beat 'em, confuse 'em. "

Ha, question that! I was an English major. I could bullshit with the best of them.

The third-row shadow smiled, and I could see that someone had a very talented orthodontist. His choppers were as bright and even as a movie star's. "Good answer." Then he cleared his throat.

All the lights blinked on and off. Twice.

Shadow-Who-Smiles shuffled a few more papers. "Do you remember Lisa Price?"

"My third-grade teacher?" I'd had to think about that one for a minute. Angela had not warned me of any of this. No doubt she was sitting pretty right now, taking notes about the bleak Siberian winter in her usual purple gel pen. And here I was, getting grilled by Quill & Parchment for heaven knew what reason. Wasn't I supposed to be a sure thing?

Furthermore, it was official: I didn't recognize any of these people's voices. Had they brought in alumni to conduct the interviews? "If we asked Lisa Price about you, what would she say?"

"That I was good with phonics." Enough of this. "Come on, it was third grade."

"What about Karthryn Bingham?" Fourth grade. "Kristin Lee." Fifth. "Robert Little, Shadow-Who-Smiles proceeded to name every homeroom teacher I'd ever had. It was more than a little freaky.

"Can I ask you a question?" I said, interrupting him asking why I fainted in my biology lab in the eleventh grade.

"Go ahead."

"Congressional confirmation hearings wouldn't care this much about my early childhood. Why do you?"

Quill was a second-rate society at best, more concerned with getting its members into grad school than taking over the world–the reported purpose of real secret societies. What was up with the act?

Alluring Voice spoke up. "What are your ambitions, Ms. Swan?"

I wanted to write the Great American Novel. But not even Quill & Parchment would find that an acceptable answer. Not goal-oriented enough. Not possible. Plus, I wasn't sure I had any Great American Ideas. So, once again, with the fallback plan. "To be an editor." There, that should hold them.

"You're lying." Shadow-Who-Smiles was no longer showing me his pearly whites.

"What makes you say that?" I folded my hands in my lap. And why did they care? I'd have bet each and every one of these people had a frustrated novelist buried deep inside. Shadow-Who-Smiles (though he wasn't right now) picked up another piece of paper and began to read aloud. It was the first page of my unfinished novel–the one that no one but Alice and I knew about. The one that existed only on my laptop's hard drive, back in my room.

"Hey!" I shouted, and he stopped. "Where did you get that? Did you hack my computer or something?"

Everything got really quiet. I thought I could hear the atomic clock whirring away. Who were these people? "We have everything you've ever done, Ms. Swan," Alluring Voice said. He lifted a manila envelope from the table in front of him. "This is your FBI file."

My mouth dropped open. I have an FBI file? Why would I have an FBI file? I'd never done a summer internship at the White House or the Pentagon. My dad was the chief of police in my small hometown of Forks, Washington, not a politician. I didn't need security clearance. And even if I did, how the heck did these people get their hands on it?

There was only one answer. They were playing me. I shook my head, leaned back in my chair, and laughed. "Right, my FBI file. Look, I'm glad I've given you guys a good laugh, but since you aren't the Men in Black, can we please get back to the interview now?" There was a long pause, then all the lights on the tables blinked again. This time, most of them blinked once, except for the one in front of Shadow-Who-Smiles.

"I think," said Alluring Voice, "that the interview is over."

"No!" said Shadow-Who-Smiles.

"She's not what we're looking for."

"I don't agree."

Hold up. I sat forward. "Guys, I'm not really sure what the hell is going on here. Where's Angela?"

Alluring Voice tilted his head until I got a glimpse of pale cheekbone. "Angela?"

"Yeah, Angela. Angela Weber, the old Lit Mag editor? The girl who is sponsoring me for this society?" Again with the silence, though this one was punctuated with a few snickers. Finally, Shadow-Who-Smiles (and he was definitely doing it again!) spoke up. "Angela Weber is not a member of this organization."

Holy shit.

Who were these people?!

Okay, to be fair, there was still one little corner in my mind that was shouting that Angela had been lying to me all year, and that she wasn't a member of Quill & Parchment after all. But it was a pretty small corner, the one where all of my most paranoid tendencies live. The rest of my head was busy spinning. I'd been taking this interview rather lightly because, hey, it was Quill & Parchment. Not a big deal, and I was a sure bet anyway. But they obviously weren't Quill & Parchment. I was out of my league, for one of the first times in my life. And I didn't have a clue what I was supposed to do.

"I think we're done here," Alluring Voice said.

"No, we're not," insisted Shadow-Who-Smiles.

Alluring Voice turned around and I caught a glimpse of perfectly shaved pale neck. "She's not what we want. We have to be serious about this."

"I can be serious!" I leaned forward and smacked my hand down on Alluring Voice's notes. I saw his mouth drop open. Whoa he has amazing lips. Where they heck did that come from. Oops. "Sorry," I said, sitting back and folding my hands demurely.

"I was a little–confused."

"Clearly."

"Can I ask who you people are?"

This time, they all laughed, before Alluring Voice said, "No."

"So you get a list of my middle-school homeroom teachers and I get nothing?"

"That's why we call it a secret society." Shadow-Who-Smiles cleared his throat.

"Fair enough."

Shadow-Who-Smiles flicked his light on and off a few times, and all the members began shuffling the papers on their desks. I wondered what the signal meant.

Alrighty. I figured I'd humiliated myself enough for one afternoon. I rose from my seat. "May I leave now?"

"One moment, Ms. Swan." Shadow-Who-Smiles put his hand out, and I was surprised that I could see it. Apparently, my eyes were adjusting to the dark. "Tell us. What do you have to offer this organization?"

I bit my tongue to keep from snapping back with, And what organization is that? Okay, so they weren't Quill & Parchment. Someone else was courting me, and I'd royally screwed up any chance I might have had to impress—whoever. The real question was, did I care? After all, this wasn't my thing. Alice was the one who wanted to get into a secret society—any prestigious secret society. I just wanted to be in Quill & Parchment, so I could keep tabs on which literary agents were hiring assistants and whether or not Cosmopolitan needed interns. And finally, the absurdity of the whole situation hit me. No junior had the foggiest clue to whom they were spilling their guts. Alice, for all her secretive, superior smugness, didn't know if she was being courted by Dragon's Head or punk'd by a bunch of rowdy frat boys. And neither did I.

What did I have to offer this mysterious, unidentified organization?

I straightened my skirt, stuck out my chin, and laughed. "You already know what I have to offer. Straight As in the major, except for that little snag with Ethiopian Immigrant Narrative; the editorship of the Lit Magazine; participation and leadership in any number of other small campus publications; and thirty pages of a badly written novel. I don't do drugs, I've never been arrested, and from what I hear, I'm not too shabby in bed. (Even though I had only been with one person but the did not have to know that) Not that any of you people will ever have the opportunity to discover that firsthand

Then I turned on my heel and marched out. And as I exited into the hall, head held high, I thought I caught the flicker of a dozen tiny book lights.

* * *

Okay, finished with first chapter. This story is a cross between Twilight and another series called Secret Society Girl. Review and let me know what you think.


	2. Tap Night

Chapter 2: Tap Night

I don't own anything.

Thanks SOOOO much to everyone who reviewed. Since this is my first fanfiction it was really nice to receive such kind words. That is why I came home and finished the 2nd chapter. Off we go!

* * *

Okay. The fun part about humiliating yourself in from of a group of shadowy figures is that you get to spend the next two days wondering if everyone you pass on campus witnessed you make a complete idiot out of yourself. I was in the library and I swear I saw this girl sniggering at me from behind a book shelf. I spent the next two hours (WAP forgotten!) trying to figure out if I knew the girl or if I was losing my mind completely.

Who in the hell is courting me! I started making a list of every secret society I knew of on campus and felt like I was turning into Alice. Okay, I immediately marked off Midnight and Grave. They don't tap women. Next I went through Lock and Key, Sword and Mace, Quill and Parchment. See a trend forming here huh? That's how things go at Prescott University. Midnight and Grave set the trend in the 1800s and now anyone with a desire to start a social club followed suit. There are a few holdouts among the major societies- Dragon's Head, Serpent-but most followed Midnight and Grave. Everyone of the societies seemed less likely than the first that I gave up this ridiculousness.

Alice wouldn't even talk to me about my interview. I tried to talk to her and she responded like my mom whenever I brought up sex. Which is to say, not at all.

The conversation went like this:

Me: So you want to hear what happened at my interview?

Alice: (fork paused halfway to her mouth) Are you supposed to talk about it?

Me: Why not? I haven't taken any vows of silence. I don't even know who they were. Why did yours tell you not to talk about it?

Alice:…

Me: They did? Did they tell you who they were?

Alice:…

Me: They did! Wow, I must have screwed up worse than I thought.

Alice (glancing around worriedly) Bella, I really, really don't thing we're supposed to be talking about this.

Me: I can't talk about anything I want. They're a bunch of strangers, and they were really rude to me, to boot.

Alice: Bella! You are going to ruin your chances!

Me: I don't think I have any chances. And please. They didn't bug the table.

Alice: Midnight and Grave would.

Me. Midnight and Grave doesn't tap women. Just future President and conquers of the world.

Alice: I'm not going to talk about this anymore here.

Me: Okay. Let's do it in the room.

Normally Alice couldn't stay still or silent if her life depended on it. And Holy Mother! She didn't even go back to the suite to talk to me. She is avoiding me! She went straight to the gym to swim laps, which considering my long-standing avoidance to deep water (I accidentally, kinda of fell off a cliff and nearly drowned-don't talk about it) was a downright slap in the face. And as if the Water Defense wasn't enough, whenever I saw her at all over the follow two days, she rushed off before I had a chance to bring up the subject again.

Not that I was sitting around waiting to talk to Alice. With gradation just months away I was super busy with the literary graduation issue. Since I wasn't being tapped by Quill and Parchment I had better do a damn good job with the magazine.

So, to be blunt, the theme of "Ambition" just wasn't going to cut it.

"Been there, don't that," I informed my second-in-command, managing editor Jacob Black. "At Prescott, Ambition is the new black."

"What a lovely quote for your intro page," Jacob Black said, putting the finishing touches on his fifth paper airplane and sailing it my way.

Ahh. Jacob Black. He was brilliant, good looking, and universally well liked.

The problem was, I was having trouble with ambition at the moment even though it leaked out of everyone around me. Ever since my disaster of an interview I just felt… mediocre.

"Okay," I said slowly, "but are we going to present Ambition in a positive or negative light?"

Jacob, damn him, threw back is head and laughed. "Touched a nerve Bells? What's up with you tonight? You're not in your usual take-over-the-world mode?" Jacob just knew me to well. I think we can read my mind.

As I said earlier Jacob was cute, with his Native American descent. Tall, dark and handsome was just the best way to describe him.

I shrugged again. "I don't know. End of year stress. Seven hundred pages of War and Peace to read before exams."

"Ah. The Russian Novel." Jacob nodded in sympathy. "Two hundred and thirty-two cubic inches of sheer torture." He winked "Don't worry. In two weeks, you'll be in Quick and Parchment, and they've got to have an in with Lit exams. You'll rock it."

I bit my lip. "I'm not going to be tapped by Quill and Parchment."

"What?" He point to the EDITOR-IN-CHIEF sigh on my desk. "How is that possible."

Finally, someone to talk to about this! Alice was doing her best to avoid me and Angela Weber was MIA (probably interviewing the real Quill and Parchment taps). "I don't know! But I went to the interview, and it was all this crap about FBI files and my third-grade teacher and they told me they weren't Quill…"

"Maybe they were lying."

"Either way, they couldn't stop talking about how I wasn't right for them. They were pretty mean, so I told them off and walked out of the room."

"Wow" Jacob grinned. A smile I knew oh so well. We had been working in close quarters since October and had been really close friends throughout college and even high school. "Well I think we need to finish this conversation over dinner."

I gave him the hairy eyeball. Jacob never asked for dates, he sprung them on you like a bear trap. You see, Jacob wanted me to be his girlfriend. Best Guy Friend just was not cutting it with Jacob anymore.

Oh yeah, I'd slept with Jacob. Six times, to be precise. My one and only sex buddy. (Words of advice. Don't sleep with close friends!)

I've always been honest with him about the fact that I'm not girlfriend material. I have never really had a serious relationship. In high school I was so focused on getting into an ivy league school I didn't have time to date. Plus, I think I scared half the male population with my extreme need for perfection, in myself and the people around me.

Even after I slept with Jacob I told him it couldn't be serious, however, Jacob is campaigning for clarification on our relationship "status" and I've been resisting.

Forty-five minutes later I had a belly full of Thai food and earful of Jacob's worthless theories about how useless and outdated the tradition of the Prescott secret society was to the modern university experience. He kept saying we didn't need black robes and secret handshakes to be successful. Quill and Parchment be damned. Altogether a very impressive speech to an impressionable young girl. If I wasn't careful tonight might be Number Seven.

"The problem with you Swan, is that you overanalyze everything."

"If you're look to get laid Black, I snapped back. "you should NOT start your sentences with 'the problem with you…'"

"Ohh, is that a possibility?"

I threw my chopstick at him. "what do you mean overanalyze."

He continued, "You think your life has to be a stack of bricks, and if you put down one bad brick, the whole tower will fall over. So you agonize over every decision, terrified you will screw up."

Ha. I had screwed up with this whole Quill thing. I was an old hat a screwing up. I just wasn't a big fan of the process.

"Summer internships, position on the magazine staff, graduation issue theme, secret society membership. When was the last time you did something just for fun Bella?

"Alice and I went dancing at Volterra last weekend."

"Something big."

I raised an eyebrow. "Something like… getting into a relationship with you?"

"For example."

"Jacob, I think we have a great friendship. I don't want to mess that up."

He rolled his eyes. "Cliché alert."

The waitress came by with the check and I made a feeble attempt to reach for the check. Jacob got their first.

Jacob was always polite. Always took care of me. He had the ability to coax a type of smile that I knew was just for me. The Bella-smile. I couldn't let myself fall for him. It would only hurt us both in the end. I don't do relationships well.

"Jake, we have talked about this. You're one of my best friends, and I'm afraid that if we get involved, and it doesn't work out, I'll lose it."

"Bella," he let out a frustrated growl. "We are involved. And it's not working out."

"You know what I mean." I ducked my head and blushed.

He sighed. "Let's just get out of here." As we were walking back to campus Jacob looked me right in the eye. "Just promise me one thing. Just once in your life, just for kicks, don't over think, okay? See how it goes."

I nodded. "Okay."

Jacob walked me back to my dorm entryway, and I, in defiance of the promise I just made, tried to come up with ways to leave him at my door without hurting his feelings.

Which turns out was unnecessary. The door to my suite flew open, and Alice was jumping up and down with a letter in hand.

"Alice, I know you are hyper, but what are you doing and why?"

She didn't even blink, just whispered. "It's yours."

I took a small white envelope edged in glossy red and sealed with a dollop of dark wax. "They must have slipped it under the door."

I turned the envelope over in my hands. It was made of heavy, beautiful linen paper, and my name had been printed on the front in the most elegant handwriting I have ever seen. Who wrote like this, that wasn't from the 20th century?

But it was the back that gained my interest, for into the solid black wax was pressed the unmistakable imprint of a moon and an elongated hexagon.

The seal of the Midnight and Grave.

I stuffed the envelope into my jacket pocket quicker than a jock with a cheat sheet, and then turned to my friends.

"So Quill came through after all?" Jacob said with a big smile.

"Quill and Parchment" Alice said in that same strange, flat voice, "give out blue and silver edged envelopes."

"So who gives out red ones?" Jacob asked her.

Alice's eyes met mine, but said nothing, and I knew then that she'd gotten a very good look at that seal. She knew exactly what that seal meant.

I turned to Jacob. "Thanks for dinner. I wish we good hang out more, but it's getting late, and I have a lot of homework to do, you know War and Peace –"

"No way." He crossed his arms over his shirt and planted his feet. Jacob looked massive. "Not until I get a good look at that envelope."

Alice began hustling Jacob out the door with more strength than I thought possible from her tiny frame. "The lady is busy, Black. And as much as both of us like you, that means out. Now."

"But –" Jacob said, looking right at me. I would have said something about how my roommate was pushing out one of my best friends but I was to busy freaking out! I was caressing the wax seal in my pocket like I was Frodo and it was the One Ring.

"Good night Jake!" I called as Alice shut the door in his face.

She threw the lock and turned to me. "Open it."

I drew back, protecting my pocket. "In front of you?"

"I'm your best friend!" she argued.

I snorted. " You've been pulling a disappearing act all week! You show me yours, I'll show you mine." I put my hands on my hips.

"Fine," Alice said, stepping back. "Be that way. I'll leave you alone with your envelope." She left me in the room alone.

That's not how I expected it to go.

I spent a good long time staring at the seal. I turned the paper over in my hands, and there, that was my name in the Midnight and Grave seal.

But Midnight and Grave did not tap women.

What the hell was going on?

Finally, I slipped my fingertips beneath and wax and lifted. The envelope split on irregular lines, and unfolded into the elongated hexagon. The words were written in red in the beautiful writing again.

_B.S.C. (which I later discovered stood for 'Barbarian-So-Called'") Bella Marie Swan:_

_You have been judge and found worthy. Be in your room tonight at five minutes past eight o'clock and await further instructions. _

And then beneath was the mark of Midnight and Grave.

Holy Mother of God! I was being tapped by Midnight and Grave!

Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.

I ran to Alice's room, then stumbled to a stop. I was going to tell her anything until she shared with me.

Midnight and Grave. They were old school and blue blood and their members grew up to be Supreme Court Justices, CEOs, and founders of major operations like Microsoft. Male ones.

Could the rumors be wrong? Or worse, was someone messing with my head? Poor little Bella Swan didn't get tapped so lets mess with her! Such things have been known to happen before. They just tended to happen to gullible freshman.

I put my head in my hands in frustration. Why was there no information session on this? Why was I so paranoid?

_Okay, Bella, think. Think!_ I check my watch, and saw it was almost time. _Think quicker._ Five minutes until the Men in Black appeared at my doorstep.

Should I accept? Should I accept, even if I suspected this was nothing but a cruel prank? What if this was Midnight and Grave? If this was true what would it mean to be a member of the notorious society mean to me?

I was still considered four and half minutes later, there was a knock at my door. I froze, staring at the door as if it were the only thing standing between me and vampires whose only desire was my blood.

There was another knock.

Alice cracked the door. "Gonna get that?"

"I don't know."

Another knock, this one very insistent. Alice bounced across the room and slung the door wide open.

Then they surrounded me. I couldn't tell how many there were. They swept me out of my room past Alice and pushed me out the door, their black cloaks flapping in their wake.

Wow, it was every bit as exciting as I hoped for. However, it was short lived when ten seconds later we entered another dark room (they really liked dark rooms).

After a second, I caught my breath. They room was lit by one candle, behind which I could see a man with a black hood over is face. He eyes were the brightest green I have ever seen. There was a smell in the air, something familiar but unidentifiable.

"Bella Marie Swan." Alluring Voice spoke from under his mask with piercing green eyes.

"Yes," I said in a rather breathless voice.

"Midnight and Grave: Accept or reject."

Here it was. No more time. I had no idea what to think.

And then, Jacob's words came back to me: "Promise me, just once in your life, just for kicks, don't over think."

I opened my mouth. "Accept."

* * *

I got a little excited and updated twice in one day. However, this most likely won't happen again but I do promise to update in the next few days.


	3. Overanayzing Again

Chapter 3: Overanalyzing again…

As soon as I spoke the words, the light was extinguished, and judging by the bustle that followed, they weren't coming back. Alluring Voice hissed in my ear, "Remember well, but keep silent, concerning what you have heard here."

By the time I stumbled to the wall and felt the cool tile beneath my fingers, they were gone. I flipped on the light to find I was standing in a bathroom, alone.

Um hello? Weren't they supposed to spirit me off to their tomb and introduce me to a life beyond my wildest dreams? I frowned, opened the bathroom door, and stepped out.

About half a dozen students milled around the hall, watching me. One of those guys who never got used to unisex bathrooms looked at me with an annoyed expression. "You done, or is there gonna be another party in there?

I disciplined my features into a neutral expression. "Anyone have a role of toilet paper."

See? I would be a pro at this secret stuff!

Ignoring the onlookers, I made my way back to my suite, where I found Alice was gone. Most likely being tapped herself. But by who?

I waited for about thirty minutes and she never showed up, so I decided to take a walk.

As I strolled down High Street, I realized where my feet had taken me. Right beside the Art History lecture hall stood the Midnight and Grave tomb. The "tombs" were found throughout campus, however, more of them looked like mansions more than tombs. However, Midnight and Grave's tomb actually looked like a tomb. Dark and mysterious. According to rumor, there is an complicated code for members that can tell them exactly what is going on inside the tomb based on the position of the wrought-iron gates guarding the entrance. I didn't know what the code was but I assumed I was about to find out.

I walked past the entrance to two residential colleges, and then, as was common amongst all students, crossed to the other side of the street so I wouldn't be seen walking in front of the Midnight and Grave tomb. It was an unwritten rule on campus. Don't get to close to the tomb or face the consequences.

The tomb was made of sandstone blocks and seemed somehow darker than the surrounding stone and slate buildings. There was a large fence surrounding the tomb and an unkempt yard. Strange the Diggers couldn't keep up on landscaping, but it did add to the feeling that "you are not welcome here" when you walked by. There were no lights outside and it just looked…sinister. I sooo bet they did it on purpose.

I sat down on the curb and noticed the gate was open. Was someone inside? Were they about to pounce on me if I got to close? The nagging fear in the back of my mind raised up to mock me.

_It wasn't Midnight and Grave who carried you into the bathroom. It was a prank, and you fell for it, hook, line, and hooded robe. Stupid Bella Swan, you'll be the laughing stock of Prescott tomorrow. _

Why hadn't they taken me with them? They'd tapped me, right? I was a member now, right? So if I wanted to go up to that gate, if I wanted to walk right through and pound on the door and demand an answer to what was going on here I could! Right?

And if you're not a member, they'll cart you away to the dungeon and most likely never be seen again.

I stood up, held my chin high, and marched across the street, determined for all of ten seconds. As soon as I got to the gate my resolve wavered and I stopped and checked again. Still no one coming. I held my breath and put my hand on the gate. Nothing. No one came to arrest me. Or yell at me, or take me away to their dungeon. I took six steps into the gate… and heard it.

The gate slammed shut and I froze. I rushed back to the gate but the latch wouldn't open. I couldn't see anything in the dark! Oh, crap. I'd been a member for about forty minutes and I had already messed up and probably broken some code.

_And trespassed! I'm on private property. RUN! RUN! They are going to get you!_

I climbed over the gate catching the flare of my favorite jeans on the top and fell face first onto the other side. At first I looked like a hop scotch player on crack trying to free my leg and get up and the same time. Then I saw three students leaving Calvin College and heading me way. Maybe they wouldn't see me if I stood still… hell, it work in _Jurassic Park_.

After they turned to corner one street above I ripped my jeans and took off stumbling down the street. I had never been a great runner but I took off like a track star to get out of this ridiculous situation I put myself in.

I finally slowed when I got back inside my residential college. At Prescott, kind of like Harry Potter's Hogwarts, is arranged according to British boarding school-style residential house system. We don't use a magical sorting hat or anything but each student is assigned to one of the ten residential "colleges" on campus. Once you were assigned to a college it determined where you lived, which dining hall you ate in, which dean to see when you screwed up, and what intramural team you would play on. College identity is paramount, even to people with much more powerful affiliations- like Midnight and Grave. If you meet another Prescott grad the first question you ask is, "What college were you in?"

I am a member of Hartford College, which is named after the town in Connecticut. Other colleges are named after founders of the college, famous historical figures, scientist, or historical leaders. Now it was mostly random what college you were put in. However, it used to have more significance before secret societies became extremely popular.

As I headed back to my suite I was a little perturbed. Not only had a torn my favorite jeans but I had always heard Tap Night was way different than this. What a letdown. I changed into my pajamas and looked into my bathroom mirror. I didn't look like a member of a notorious secret society. I looked plain compared to the head of the CIA, the President of the United States, and the CEO of Fox.

"Screw it." I looked myself in the eyes. "You've been had."

MGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMMG

I went to the dining hall the next morning to discover Alice waiting for me with my favorite breakfast. That is the problem with best friends. They always know how to make you talk.

"Nice outfit." Looking at my black hoodie and dark jeans. "Quite mysterious there Bells. You fit the part." She smirked.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to play coy.

"You look like you belong to a secret society now?"

God, Alice could be frustrating! "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Ah, but I know all things! Don't you know that about me yet, Bella? I see all things." She giggled and sounded like a seer.

So true. Alice had an uncanny ability to know what would happen in the future and usually had a sense of what's going on in most people's lives. Again, how did I end up with such an annoying best friend?

"Seriously Alice, how do you know they are a secret society? Maybe it was just a practical joke?"

"I think the Midnight and Grave letterhead gave you a pretty good clue."

"You looked at the envelope?"

"It was pretty hard to miss with the moon and great big coffin! Are you going to get up and leave now?" Alice looked at me cautiously.

By all accounts I was supposed to. When someone brought up the secret society you were in, you should leave the room. However, Alice was my best friend and I needed her… and I wanted to know who tapped HER last night?

"That depends… Dragon's Head, Lock and Key, Serpent? You going anywhere?"

Alice just looked up at me with her bright blue eyes and pixie like features. Trying to look all innocent.

"I just can't tell you Bells."

"No I don't Alice! Its not fair! You know where I'm going!" I was really angry now.

"Bella, its better this way. Trust me!"

"I just don't understand how any of this works, Alice. Not like you! Since you are a legacy at Prescott I bet your father went through this process and you know what to expect! I don't. Please help me. I don't know if those guys in robes were Diggers or just some frat boys playing a prank. They just took me into the bathroom as asked a question. No pig's blood or sacrificed virgins like I half expected from all the rumors we've heard!" I slumped in my seat and felt utterly defeated.

At the word. "Diggers," Alice flinched.

She didn't flinch when I mentioned any other society. Just Midnight and Grave. Could she have been tapped by them as well? Was her father a Digger? He was a Governor. A very powerful man. Could it be possible?

My head was starting to hurt.

Alice looked at me with pity in her eyes. "Why don't you go the library and do a little research on societies at Prescott. I bet you might find out a little more about Midnight and Grave and see if your initiation was a hoax or not."

MGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGMGM

As if to convince myself I wasn't obsessing over this secret society thing (after all a least ninety percent of the student population never joins one!), I brought WAP with me to the library. I wasn't about to do research on secret societies. I refuse, damn it.

Okay... So about 30 minutes I was in the stacks looking for books about secret societies. God, I can't help myself. I just have to know what's going on. It was totally messing with my mind and I couldn't concentrate on anything else.

I finally found a few books on the top floor in the way back of the library. I trekked down to the nearest research room and began my search for information. I sat in a winged back chair in our beautiful gothic library and immediately felt sleepy.

Between not a bit of sleep last night worrying about Tap Night to 1,492 pages of WAP looming over me, and dusty old books about 19th century frats? I tried to stay awake by switching between the two when all of a sudden I heard.

"Hey Bella."

I looked up to see Jasper Whitlock standing over my table. A senior, a popular party boy, and the son of the senior senator of Texas. Jasper and I didn't run in the same social circles. Other than Alice who chose to stay away from the A-list group of Prescott, we had no acquaintances. I mean my friends and I stayed in our dorms, eating ice cream and watching "Sex in the City." Jasper and his clan actually WENT to "The City" and had sex filled weekends in their parent's vacation apartments. Jasper wasn't in my college, never been in a class together, and hadn't exchanged three words together. "Um, hi."

Okay, four words.

"What's up?" He looked over to see WAP sitting in front of me. Dressed in spring clothing with a light green, tight fitting, polo shirt that had a "CC" in the corner of it. His sandy blond hair looked like it had been ripped right now of the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. He wore his messenger bag over his shoulder and kept fiddling with the strap. "Russian Novel class huh. How is it going?"

"Okay, I just hope War and Peace doesn't kill me before the year is up." Still looking at him a little confused.

Jasper kept messing with his strap and said. "The final's a breeze. So don't worry about it."

"Thanks". I guess.

"Just don't work to hard. You are going to need your energy soon."

Huh. My eyes shot to his face. "What are you talking about?"

He just grinned, showing me his gorgeous teeth… "Oh I almost forgot." Reaching into his bag and pulling out a book about Freud. "I know you are more of a New Critic but I thought you might need to read up on Freud. Get your facts straight or I might think you deserved that B- in Ethiopian Lit."

I stared at that all-too-familiar smile, then down at his hands, which were tapping his shoulder strap again. And there it was. A pin that showed a moon inside an elongated hexagon.

Jasper Whitlock was the Shadow-Who-Smiles. And he was in Midnight and Grave.

Which meant…

"Hey!" I said. Loudly.

"Shh!" The harsh rebuke from a girl came from the next table. I craned my neck to see Rosalie Hale glaring at my from behind her Louis Vuitton bag. Rosalie's gaze ping-ponged between me to Jasper, and back again, and then her ice blue eyes narrowed. Like Jasper, Rosalie was apart of the Prescott uber elite.

Jasper was taking advantage of my momentary distraction. He ruffled my hair. "See ya soon Bells." Then turned on a heel and left.

Ignoring Rosalie, I grabbed WAP and took off after Jasper.

But by the time I got to the main entrance of the library, he was no where in sight. Did all Midnight and Grave members have secret passage ways to leave every building on campus unnoticed?

I sprinted down the front steps onto the Campus Green and there was no sign of him. Fine, I would resort to my cunning ways. "CC" stood for Calvin College, and green was their college color. Ah ha! Gotcha! I'd follow him right to his dorm.

I tried to look dignified (and not fall flat on my face) as I power-walked across campus, but the weight of WAP was throwing me off balance.

_Thoughts As I Stumbled My Way Across Campus_

_A) Jasper knew I was bullshiting during my interview and tapped me anyway._

_B) Must be convenient for Jasper that Calvin College was directly next door to Midnight and Grave tomb._

_C) I wonder if the Diggers have the Russian Novel final on file._

I swiped my keycard at the entrance of Calvin College, and opened the heavy gate. A few steps later I was in their courtyard alone with Jasper.

"Jasper!" I shouted, and he stopped in his tracks. "You're a Digger."

He grabbed my arm and maneuvered me to one of the stone benches positioned farther away from the windows.

"And you," he hissed in my ear, "are not discreet."

I rolled my eyes. "How discreet is that pin of yours?"

He snorted. "It took you ninety seconds to recognize it, and I practically had to jab in your eye with the pointy end."

I crossed my arms. "Now I want an explanation."

He narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"For last night, of course!"

"You seemed to understand the process pretty well at the time." He drawled.

"Yeah, that was before you left me in the bathroom with no explanation."

"Of course. We had to tap eleven other people, you know, Bella. We were a little busy. Look this isn't the time to talk about this. Everything you need to know is in the –" He stopped and looked horrified.

"Where are the books I gave you?"

"In the library I suppose."

"WHAT!" Now it was Jasper's turn to get loud. He jumped up from the bench and looked like he was about to bite me. "You just left them there?"

I blinked at him. "They were library books and I already had a copy of them anyway."

"There was-UGH! There was something in the Freud. For you. From us."

"Oh."

"OH!" He paced back and forth in front of me. "Oh?! That's all you have to say?"

"What am I supposed to say? Did you honestly think that after that little act of yours that I would rather read Freud or hunt you down?"

"Well I didn't think you would leave them there!" He plopped on the bench and sighed.

I patted him on the shoulder and was thinking of the fasted route back to the reading room I was in.

Jasper whipped up and caught me by the shoulders, and started at me intently. "Listen, you can't let anyone else see that letter. It could ruin everything. You have to get back to the library and get it back. Now. Understand?"

I nodded, a bit taken back by his intensity, and put my hands on his chest to push him away. And, naturally, that's when the door to the nearest entryway opened and out walked Jacob Black.

"Hey, Swan," he voice was anything but casual. "What's up?"

Jasper dropped his hands and stepped back and I tried to think of the least awkward way to respond like:

1) "Whoa Jasper be careful on those uneven flagstones, you don't want to trip."

2) "Hey Jacob. Jasper and I were just acting out this scene I missed from Gossip Girls last week"

3) "Hi, Jacob. Jasper and I can't talk right now. We have to go talk about the uber secret society info about Midnight and Rose that Agent-Double-Oh-Whitlock here left in a book I had no intention of checking out."

But Jasper took over, going from freaking out to emotionally cool in an instant. "Hey, man, how's it going?" He held out his hand and slapped Jacob a high five before my friend could figure out what was going on. "I've been meaning to congratulate you on the last intramural basketball game. Have you thought about being team captain next year?

"Thanks," Jacob said, and stood a little taller. "I have been thinking about it."

Unbelievable. I looked at Jasper with new appreciation. It was like he could read the emotions in the room and knew exactly how to manipulate them. Obviously raised by a politician. "Lets go talk to the Calvin Intramural Coordinator right now."

"Well, I wanted to talk to Bella…" Jacob cast me the "Bella Smile," but Jasper stepped in.

"Oh she is headed to the library." Jasper clapped Jacob on the back and off they went.

I stood in the courtyard for a minute and began to think about the Hopelessly-Devoted- To-You act Jacob has been trying to pull. He just totally ditched me for intramural basketball.

On the upside I was on my way to becoming a Midnight and Grave member. I just really needed to find those books.

I hurried back to the library to find that the table I was sitting at had no books. I began to panic thinking there is no chance in hell they are going to induct me if I keep screwing up like this.

Then I heard her.

"Hey! Psst, Bella, Bella Swan."

I turned in the direction of the voice and saw Rosalie Hale sitting in a leather armchair in a little reading alcove. Her Louis Vuitton back was on her lap, and between two of her perfectly manicured fingers, she dangled a white envelope with a red border and a black wax seal.

"Looking for this?" she smirked.

God, I really HATE Rosalie Hale.

* * *

Let me know what you think! So don't forget to review! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed my first two chapters. This one is for you!


	4. Here Goes Nothing

Chapter 4: Here Goes Nothing

Okay, I'm really sorry it has taken me forever to update. Things got a little hectic! I promise to update more regularly!

* * *

And let me tell you why.

Alice attended the same elite, east coast prep school that Rosalie did. Rosalie Hale is amongst the oldest of the old school, and her father, some hotshot Wall Street guy has donated gobs of money to Prescott. Alice and Rosalie were acquaintances in prep school but were never really close. Once Alice came to Prescott we became the best of friends and she was fiercely loyal to me. Rosalie, on the other hand, stayed with the 'connected' crowd of Prescott. So, Alice and Rosalie really stopped running the same social circles.

Okay, moving along with why I hate her. There's a sort of restaurant/club in New Haven called Volterra that caters to the very, very connected factions of the student body. To eat there, you have to be a member, and the dress code is incredibly strict. Alice was a member so we went every once in awhile with close friends.

At this point I knew of Rosalie-she was beautiful with big blue eyes, blond hair and legs from here to Tin Buck To, dressed like she was in a fashion show for every class, and had a dorm room on campus (required for all freshman) as well as a swank penthouse. She held champagne-tasting parties. At eighteen.

I was still getting used to keggers.

My first night at Volterra with Alice had been going for about hour. As a freshman from a small town I was not used to this kind of social scene while Alice could float across the room with ease and grace. While Alice was shamelessly flirting with the bartender I excused myself to head to the restroom.

I wobbled down the stairs to the main dining area and, always the graceful one, tripped over a table containing Rosalie Hale and her closest friends. I think I turned about three different shades of red. I bolted from the table to hide in the bathroom and never come out.

I was still in the stall when the door of the ladies' room opened and in walked Rosalie and one of her friends.

"-can you believe Alice Brandon is friends with her," Rosalie was saying as he she popped open a Chanel compact. "Ha, well you know how Alice likes _slumming_. She will come around eventually."

And I never did like Rosalie Hale after that. Slumming!

So here I was, two and half years later, watching Rosalie fondle my letter from Midnight and Grave with a smug little smile plastered on her (probably plastic surgery-enhanced) face.

I swallowed. "Why, thanks" _bitch _"Rosalie!" I said in what I hoped was a tone of sincere gaiety, but probably came across as forced brittleness. "I was wondering" _why you'd steal my books_ "what I'd done with that" _secret society letter_ "birthday party invitation."

"Can it," she said, and beckoned to me with the letter. "Come here."

I started to trot over, then remembered that, whatever Rosalie might have said freshman year, I am not an obedient little puppy, stopped, and held out my hand. "Please give me back my letter."

"As soon as we ascertain that it belongs to you."

That brought me fully into the alcove she was sitting in. "It belongs to me and you know it," I hissed.

She turned the envelope in her hands, a look of serene innocence on her face. "No name on it."

I clenched my jaw. "Then let me describe it to you."

"Oh please do!" She smiled sweetly. "Especially what's on the inside."

I sat down on the chair opposite her. "Rosalie, I'm not kidding around. Give it back."

She hesitated, frowned, and handed it over. It snatched it from her claws and, after ensuring the seal had not been broken, tossed it into WAP. Dude, if it were me, I'd have put up a right fight to get a look inside her letter.

All business between us seemingly at an end, I rose to go.

"Wait Bella." She touched my arm, and I was quite proud of myself for not jerking away with revulsion. "We should talk."

"About what?" I said haughtily.

"You know about what." Her eyes softened for a second. "Please?"

What a crock. Like she'd be my friend now that I had the approval of a group like Midnight and Grave? I pulled out of her grip. "Sorry, Rosalie. I'm not into slumming."

The inside of the letter had been burned in places, and large charred blotches left black streaks on my hands as I tried to unfold it. Like before, the print was lopsided on the page, which was folded into an irregular hexagon. This time, it smelled like smoke.

This is what it said.

_Neophyte Swan,_

_At five minutes past eight this evening, wearing neither metal, nor sulfur, nor glass, leave the base of Meyer Tower and walk south on High Street. Look neither to the right nor the left. Pass through the sacred pillars of Hercules and approach the Temple. Take the right Book in your left hand and knock thrice upon the sacred portals. Tell no on what you do. _

_-Rex Grave_

Um, okaaaaay. I knew what all those words meant, but the sum was still a mystery. Who wears sulfur? The glass restriction was okay, since I was blessed with 20/20 vision, but the metal thing would be a tough one. Jeans were out- what with all those copper rivets and the zipper in them, and even the button-fly ones had metal buttons. Was I supposed to wear a skirt? Sweatpants? What about a bra? They have metal wire support. Right? Well after destroying Vicky's bra I found they were actually plastic so I was okay.

* * *

As luck would have it, I owned a pair of cargo pants with a drawstring waist, and so, properly attired at last, I set forth to meet my destiny. At Meyer Tower, I hung out, periodically checking the time on the clock face and hoping I looked more casual than I felt. Five minutes after the Meyer Tower Carillon finished sounding off the eight o'clock hour, I did an about-face and marched toward the Midnight and Grave tomb. I was determined not to repeat the mistakes of my interview-I wasn't going to be late for initiation.

As I approached the tomb, I caught sight of another figure walking toward me from the south side of the street. Dammit. I couldn't enter the Midnight and Grave yard with someone standing there watching me, could I? How did the members keep their secrets without a private entrance?

The figure passed beneath a streetlight, and I could see a man. He wore a shiny black jacket festooned with more zippers than one reasonably expected to see on the average overcoat. I knew that jacket. It belonged to Emmett Cullen.

"Heya, Bella!" he said as we met on the sidewalk directly in front of that hated wrought-iron gate. Emmett rested his hand on it (as if it were just any gate and not the entrance to the Diggers' tomb) and planted his feet directly in my path. "Whatcha up too?"

"Um…" I flickered my eyes toward the tomb. "Not much. You?"

"Same," we winked at me, his gorgeous green eyes glinting even more from behind the shiny bronze rims of his glasses.

I blushed slightly and clamped my thighs together, then prayed fervently that he didn't notice. Emmett Cullen was not only one of the best looking guys on campus (I heard his older brother could rival him, but he kept to himself and out of the limelight, unlike Emmett), he was also a Player with a capital "P." From what I heard, Emmett has slept with half of the straight and/or available women in Cullen College (not a coincidence), and from what I know, the other half are impatiently waiting their turn.

Thank God Almighty I was in Hartford College! Emmett and I are just acquaintances, the kind that nod in recognition after working on a class project together.

"Headed home?" he asked. Since I was walking in the precise opposite direction of Hartford College, it struck me as an odd question. "Nope."

"Okay." He smiled genially and neither of us moved an inch. At last, giving up, I sidestepped him and walked a few paces down the street.

Emmett waved, but didn't budge. By the time I reached the far corner and turned around, he'd taken a book of matches from his pocket and began striking them, one by one, and letting them burn to his fingers flicking the nubs to the curb.

I shook my head. Boys! Is it like a caveman thing to have to play with fire every chance they get? He looked ready to stand there doing this Prometheus act all night. How many times was I going to have to walk around the block before I got a clear shot of the tomb?

At last, Emmett seemed to come to a decision. Her turned and loped off toward Cullen College. I wasted no time in scurrying back to the gate. So what if I wasn't following the precise directions in the letter? I'd done every step, despite the delay, and I couldn't risk being late again. Who knew how many atomic clocks they had in there?

The giant double doors at the threshold of the Midnight and Grave tomb were weathered to a dull bronze sheen. A large brass knocker shaped like a book hung at face height; its aged brass pages were engraved with "M" and a "G." I took a breath.

_Here goes nothing. _

No sooner had I lifted the knocker than the doors flew open. I glimpsed a shadowed face, maybe a pair of hands, then someone threw a burlap hood over my head, grabbed me by both arms, and pulled me inside.

I screamed. Of course.

* * *

Okay, so quite the cliffhanger. Bella is inside the tomb now! This chapter was a little more focused on character development of Bella, Rose, and Emmett. I promise to update soon with A LOT more action including the initiation. Please Review! Pretty Please?


	5. They Cannot Be Serious

Previously….

_The giant double doors at the threshold of the Midnight and Grave tomb were weathered to a dull bronze sheen. A large brass knocker shaped like a book hung at face height; its aged brass pages were engraved with "M" and a "G." I took a breath._

_Here goes nothing. _

_No sooner had I lifted the knocker than the doors flew open. I glimpsed a shadowed face, maybe a pair of hands, then someone threw a burlap hood over my head, grabbed me by both arms, and pulled me inside. _

_I screamed. Of course. _

Chapter 5: They Cannot Be Serious

"Silence Neophyte." All of a sudden I was lifted off my feet and being carried to God only knew where. "You are trampling on divine earth" a man said.

I wiggled my useless legs. "I'm not trampling on anything," I mumbled through my hood.

Someone actually had the gall to slap my ass. "Hush."

"That better be someone I know or I'm suing for harrs-"

"I said SHUT UP!"

"Hands off me!" I bet they didn't touch male taps like this. I started to buck my body as my captors began moving me down a flight of stairs.

I heard a chuckle from behind me. "Tapped a live one here, Stonewall."

_Stonewall?_ What the hell.

All talk ceased as I was turned left, then right, then left again, and then I was lost as to what direction was right, left, up, or down. Finally, after what felt like hours I was flipped and finally forced to my feet and understandably fell flat on my butt. There were a few sniggers, and I was picked up again and placed on a wooden bench. The hood was ripped off.

I opened my eyes and gasped.

Not from shock. The room was too dark to see anything except tiny orange sparks that danced around the room. They were obviously cigarettes because the room was filled with smoke and I began to cough and wheeze. Then I heard a few muffled coughs around the room. Okay, I'm not alone in here at least.

"Neophyte." The sparks stopped moving. "You seek to be initiated into the Sacred Mysteries of the Midnight and Grave, to devote the Passion of your Blood, and the Power of your Mind"-

Blah, blah, blah… And obviously the patience of my ears. Who wrote this cheesy crap?

-"to our sacred order. Is this your final wish?"

"You betcha!"

Somebody poked me. "Say 'Aye.'"

"Aye." I felt like Jack Sparrow over here.

The sparks began dancing again. "Do not speak to quickly, Neophyte. For if you say aye, this is a commitment for life. There is no turning back from this path once taken. Just being in this tomb, being allowed in the Firefly room-"

Aww, that is what the little lights are supposed to be. How cute!

"is to much for any Barbarian to know, but even these mysteries are nothing compared to the knowledge you will gain as a brother of the Midnight and Grave. Are you willing to leave the society you know and enter in the realm of the night? Choose carefully Neophyte because there will be no turning back."

_Um, okay, Morpheus_… "Yeah I'll take the red pill."

"Huh?" said the voice. Someone else sniggered behind me.

"Sorry," I said. "I mean, 'Aye.'" Great, sarcasm wasn't really welcomed here it seemed.

The fireflies were all extinguished. Then one light in an old fashioned oil lamp floated toward me. "Come with me Neophyte. You are about to be reborn!"

I stood and walked toward the light. As I got closer, I saw the lamp was being carried by a person in a long black cape, but I couldn't see his face. He withdrew his arm and held out a golden key in his long delicate hand. His skin was so white it looked like porcelain. I reached for the key.

"Not for you." Said a voice I knew all to well. Alluring Voice was back! Then I heard voices all around me begin chanting. "You're not worthy! You're not ready! Get out! Get Out!"

"What the hell…?" I kicked my legs and tried to get out of their grip. I began running through the darkness, tripped and stumbled to my knees. Was this apart of the initiation? If so, I didn't like it! I was done with this and getting the hell out of here. I would crawl out of here if I had too! I heard a voice behind me, as if from far away, a voice sounding the alarm.

"Quick, catch her! She can't get into the Inner Temple!" The Alluring Voice sounded menacing.

I blinked trying to see anything in front of me and couldn't. So, I began to crawl through the darkness. Maybe I could feel my way to an exit. Finally, I hit a wall. I pushed to my feet and began feeling my way along the wall. I felt a hinge and then a door! But did it lead toward an exit or farther into this mad house? I began to feel my way through the door hoping to feel a light switch.

But instead, my fingers touched something smooth located on the wall. I let my hand glide down, over the front of the object, and felt two bumps, some indentions, three holes, and a jagged edge-

_Oh. My. God. A human skull. _

A hand clamped over my wrist.

I tried to scream, but before I drew a single breath, someone covered my mouth with there hand and began dragging me through the room.

"Be quiet Bella, Or they'll catch you."

He released me and I spun around to be met by the man dressed in a black cape, and the hood still covered his face. He carried a tiny pinlight. I still couldn't have recognized him, even if I'd been trying.

"Nice costume. Who are you?" Trying to sound braver than I felt.

"Oh Miss Swan you have messed up, and they aren't going to let you in"

Why didn't Jasper tell me anything about this? What had I done to screw up? This whole Midnight and Grave thing is turning into a fiasco. I don't know who these guys thought they were, what was going to happen to me, or why. Quill and Parchment was looking more appealing by the minute. Wait, did the Diggers have anything to do with why I wasn't tapped by Quill?

Of course they were.

The Diggers were going to spend an evening screwing with my head and destroy any chance of me joining the literary society.

"Fine." I said, lifting my chin. "Then just show me the way out."

He shook his head. "It's too late."

"What do you mean?"

"We will have to silence you?"

My mouth went dry. I almost believed him. I mean I had just had my fingers in a skull! These people used human skulls as light fixtures; maybe they should be taken seriously. Then I remembered Jasper and his clumsy delivery of my letter. They weren't CIA. They were just college kids. If something happened to me Alice knew where I was tonight.

"You talk big, but you don't have anything to back it up."

"So you've always expressed." A voice said from behind me. It was Alluring Voice and he was smiling at me threateningly. His hood was over his eyes. He just made me uneasy.

"You gave us a challenge at your interview." He went on. "And Diggers don't take things lying down. You're here to learn a lesson Isabella Swan." The door behind me flew open, and hands were all over me. Again, I was being lifted off my feet and being carried out of this room.

"Time for a Grand Tour."

"This is assault." I said in a shaky voice. "I'm going to scream."

"If anyone could hear you, which they can't, do you actually think someone would come looking? It's Initiation Night Swan. Screaming coming from the Midnight and Grave Tomb is quite normal tonight of all nights."

I felt true fear for this first time tonight. My skin began to crawl everywhere someone was touching me. Could they actually be serious? It's always been rumored that Midnight and Grave members got out of sticky situations quite often. I'd even heard the society owned the police!

"Where's Jasper?" I asked. My voice didn't sound normal, at all. Jasper was a governor's kid. He wouldn't be doing anything to illegal. Would he? Unless you also believed the rumor that the society owned to whole government as well.

"He'll be around. Now shut that mouth and enjoy the ride."

With that, I was tossed into the waiting arms of another group, who spun me around, lifted me up, and threw me on a hard, flat surface

"You're destined for a grave. Just not the grave you thought."

All hands let go of me. I thought they were letting me go. I was wrong. All of a sudden a lid was closed in my face. I tried to move, but I was tightly packed between four walls. I could feel sanded wood a few inches from my shoulders, above my head, and right beyond my nose.

_They had put me in a coffin_.

I pounded on the lid, but it was closed shut. "Let me out! Let me out you sons of bitches!" I screamed, kicking my legs as hard as I could into the lid.

They responded by turning me over. I tumbled around, hoping that would put enough pressure on the lid where I would fall out.

"You don't take us seriously Isabella Swan," said Alluring Voice.

"I promise you, I've learned my lesson!" I pounded on the coffin.

"You belittle us; you ridicule us, and challenge us. Before the end of this night you will learn to respect your elders."

I couldn't tell how far we had moved. I kept being jostled but I couldn't tell how much was actually movement or if they were just faking it. Then I could hear water. Were they taking me to a bathroom? At least they had set me down.

"You are in our power now Swan. Your life is in our hands," says the Alluring Voice. "Welcome to our pool room. We could drop you in at any moment. Do you think you'd escape the coffin before you drowned?"

They could not be serious. This was not funny anymore. I could feel them pushing me along the floor. I felt myself sliding forward and I was tipping. Then, water splashed against my legs. Water was flowing through the seams of the coffin. They could NOT actually be doing this!!

"STOP! Please stop! I began to scream, kicking with everything I had in me.

_Oh God, I can't swim, I can't swim! Please let me out! I can't drown! _

Pure terror filled me. I heard a rush of water above my head, and it started seeping through the coffin. They were going to let me go and I would sink to the bottom. Helpless.

"Please, please, let me out, I beg you!"

My cry broke on the last words into a sob. Were they really going to let me die in here?

I know, I know another cliffhanger after I made you wait months for an update! I hope to update again this week so you won't have to wait long. I promise. Thanks again for the reviews!


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